Chapter Fifty-Two

"I... don't want... Coran... looking at me." Devona insisted.

"Devona... you're sick. You should at least have Coran examine you." Cynn replied, tucking the covers back in place where the warrior had dislodged them in her protests.

Devona wasn't terribly sure how to explain that she knew damn well why she was sick, and how Coran was directly responsible for that, without telling the whole story; a whole story she wasn't comfortable telling because she wasn't even sure she knew the whole story.

"Cynn, while I appreciate your efforts, I can comfortably say I am aware of my bethrothed's condition. Her coughing and hacking and sneezing were quite audible on my side of the suite."

The elementalist's head jerked up to see that Coran had appeared at the doorway joining the rooms of the suite, his arm resting on the frame as he added. "Now, unless you wish to risk taking ill yourself, I would recommend taking your leave. I will see to a proper diagnosis of my beloved Devona."

Cynn nodded silently, and made her retreat, confident that Coran would tend to the warrior as best as he was able.

Devona, however, wasn't too certain of that.

"Get away from me, you fiend." The warrior grumbled bitterly, coughing from just that slight amount of speech.

The headmaster of Atal Ra did not obey her request, putting his hand on her forehead to test her fever. "You only have yourself to blame. I told you not to get involved."

"You poisoned your father! And me!" Devona then groaned as she felt the force of her attempted shout painfully chafe her sore throat.

"Oh, do not be a dramatic." Coran said with a roll of his eyes. "I did no such thing." He then pulled away his hand, and felt her tender throat. "Good grief, to hear you talk, I'd think you were on death's door. You're an active, healthy woman of remarkable constitution. You will be fine, perhaps by as soon as tomorrow morning."

"And the king?" She demanded.

"Not nearly in his peak condition or prime years, but he will recover as well. Grenth take you, if I wanted my father dead, there are hundreds of other, cleaner, and less detectable ways to go about it."

"Then... what... was that stuff you put in our drinks?"

Coran exhaled. "Devona..."

"Do not tell me, 'the less you know the better.' I will get out of this bed and beat it out of you if I have to."

"While I have no intention of committing regicide, I fear if knowledge of my actions were to become known, my father won't exactly see the distinctions. I'd rather not make you an accessory to that potential crime among nobility."

"I think it's a little late for that." Devona said, then hacked a clump of phlegm in the back of her throat unpleasantly. "I want to know what you did to me, and I want to know now."

"It was a modified and weakened form of the viral infection my father suffered when I first returned to Ascalon. It's different enough to make him ill, but similar enough that the antibodies from the first infection will adapt rather swiftly."

"But... why?"

"The purpose wasn't to kill my father... merely to render him unable to rule for the next few days while I enact the rest of the plan to end Bhu'khahuh. I will need the full might of the Ascalon military in order to have the manpower necessary to push this front back into the Atal Ra cavern."

Devona boggled. "But... King Adelbern agreed to lend all the support we needed! Why...?"

"Oh certainly, he agrees right now..." Coran huffed, "But what about two days from now when his mind shifts again? What happens when he suddenly sees a Charr's shadow in the streets of Ascalon City? What happens when he turns his eyes to the north again?"

Coran knelt before Devona, and took her hand in his. "No, my love... I cannot assume my father will remain lucid and rational. There is too much at stake. Surely you understand."

Again, the warrior did not particularly like this sort of talk about Adelbern... even when she left Ascalon to help the pilgrimage to Kryta, and remembered the angry words the old king spoke in parting to those that left, she had thought highly of the man. Truly noble and honorable, if misguided.

But... Coran was also right. There was already enough that could go wrong on this most recent, and probably desperate attempt, to save the world this time around. She had heard reports of Adelbern's varying temperment, and had seen the drastic shift in moods and thought personally.

"I do now... it would have been nicer to be able to understand that yesterday evening."

"As I said... I didn't want to potentially make you an accessory to a crime against the King."

Devona sighed, and answered, "Coran, we are a team. Even if I cringed every time you talked about supplanting your father, by force if necessary, I support you, and will continue to support you; even if it means I am accused of treason to the crown. I don't need protecting. We either both succeed, or neither of us do."

"I'll try to remember that in the future."

A knock on the door grabbed their attention, and they both stiffened guiltily like a pair of children caught being naughty. "Captain Devona? Is the prince in there?" Duke Barradin asked from across the closed door.

Coran nodded to her, and put a hand down in silent request to let him handle it. "I am, Duke. I shall be there shortly."

He crossed the suite room to the door, and opened it halfway. "I am sorry, Barradin, but Devona is not well. Nothing serious, mind you, but I'd rather not potentially spread the contagion she has acquired."

"I came to inform you that the King himself has also come down with illness... I assume the Asurans tending to him know of this?"

Coran nodded, "I am well aware of my father's condition, and yes, Japphe and the Medical Krewe are aware of that fact. They are the best physicians you will find across the width and breadth of this continent. Rest assured the king is in the best possible hands. For what it's worth, the sickness is not particularly virulent, nor is it life-threatening."

Barradin released a nervous breath. "I am glad to hear that. However, with the king bed-ridden, by the laws of succession, you are aware that you are now the acting king until he can safely return to the throne, correct?"

"I am painfully aware, Barradin." Coran answered grimly. "I have said nothing on that score because there is no reason to change the plans my father and I composed the last evening. Proceed with those orders as laid out. If it is absolutely necessary, I will hold court this afternoon after the mid-day meal."

"Very well... your highness. I shall inform the other nobles of your intentions if you desire."

Coran frowned at the use of the title, but didn't press the issue; at least this time he actually wasserving in those duties. "Yes, you do that. Good day, Duke."

He closed the door, and returned to his betrothed's side. "Looks like I have nobleman's work to do. Delightful, isn't it? You do realize, as my future wife, it certainly wouldn't be untoward to join me as I hold court..."

Devona coughed, although these were rather blatantly fake. "Oh, my dear, you know I would love nothing more than to sit at your side as you handle trivial concerns and worries from every minor duke and lord that thinks they have a grievance... but I fear I am simply too ill to attend. Surely you understand."

"Of course." Coran replied, bending down to kiss her forehead. "You really are quite warm. I think I might have to interrogate Japphe on exactly what he did to that virus. He is an Asura after all..."